


One More Soul to Call

by Fatal_in_Fillory



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Don't ask me how, I'm not ready to accept Quentin's death, M/M, No Character Death, No Plot, Oneshot, Plot What Plot, Post-Season/Series 04, Soulmates, Spoilers, Sweet Kisses, maybe twoshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 00:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22127272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatal_in_Fillory/pseuds/Fatal_in_Fillory
Summary: “I guess I just… I dunno… I thought there would be sex magic involved, or something,” Quentin said quickly, eyeing Julia who rolled her eyes.“You’re looking for your soul mate, Q. Usually people who are willing to go through this to find their soul mate don’t already have someone to have sex with,” she says and of course she makes sense.[Or the one where Quentin casts a soul mate spell and doesn't expect the results]
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 4
Kudos: 160





	One More Soul to Call

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I don’t know. First time writing Quentin/Eliot. Be nice. It’s a really simple oneshot. If it’s liked, maybe I’ll add a second part for funsies.

“I guess I just… I dunno… I thought there would be sex magic involved, or something,” Quentin said quickly, eyeing Julia who rolled her eyes.

“You’re looking for your soul mate, Q. Usually people who are willing to go through this to find their soul mate don’t already have someone to have sex with,” she says and of course she makes sense.

Sitting in the apartment, the two were conversing from across from another on the floor. Quentin always felt more grounded while, well, on the ground and lately, he had needed this feeling. Julia knew Quentin well enough to follow his lead.

It hadn’t taken too long for the two to find the spell but it was no easy task and it would basically be on Quentin to figure out—which, what was new, really? Julia had spotted the spell first and quickly turned the book around and shoved it into Quentin’s lap with a knowing smile.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Julia asked, brown hair pulled behind her ear and legs crossed comfortable.

“I have to make sure I didn’t make a mistake letting Alice go,” Quentin responded, a knee being pulled against his chest—a very Quentin thing to do when he was anxious or depressed or really anything besides happy.

“You two have history, Q, maybe too much. And then you almost died in front of her—“

“—And now she won’t talk to me or look at me and wants to leave New York again,” Quentin finished in a single breath, looking at Julia as she gave a sympathetic smile.

“But you said yourself you think that’s a good idea,” Julia responded softly.

“I just need to be sure,” Quentin mumbled before beginning to copy the spell into one of his nearby notebooks.

* * *

Quentin had stumbled back and forth between Brakebills and the apartment so many times that by the time he gathered the materials, he was almost too tired to complete the spell. Almost. With magic in overdrive, he hoped such a complex spell would come easier than usual, especially for him.

The apartment was empty for the first time in weeks giving Quentin full control over the living room. He had moved the furniture aside and sat, legs crossed, in the center of the room. He read over the instructions again, mutterings spilling from his lips as he ensured he had everything.

_Proof of love to you, proof of love to others, and proof of love as a concept._

These were the only materials required and he tried his best to interpret it as simply as possible.

“Love as a concept,” he muttered, setting a disgustingly cheesy romance card into the empty pot in front of him. “Proof of love to others,” he muttered against, setting two pieces of hair which were intertwined—Penny and Julia’s, of course. “Proof of love to me,” he muttered lastly, picking up the last two materials beside him—a peach and a plum—before setting them with the remainder of the items.

He muttered in Latin as he set the pot ingredients afire with some complex finger movements, especially considering he was attempting not to set the apartment on fire and the recent juice up in magic was not making that easy. He focused on keeping the fire contained as the items burned into a red and green smoke.

Once only ashes remained, he scooped his fingers into the still quite hot ashes and drew the symbol required on his exposed chest, above his heart, naturally. It burned, he realized, but focused only on chanting what was required of him. According to the spell, the symbol should also appear on his soul mate, though hopefully not as painfully, and, assumedly, in the same place.

By the end of it, he wasn’t quite sure it really did anything. His chest was burning, yes, and his skin had begun to glow near the end but he didn’t feel the usual extreme exhaustion from a spell of this caliber or the tingling in his fingers from the flow of magic. Sure, it had been simple, in concept, but magic regarding love was never easy and Quentin came to settle on a simple hope of not fucking it up over it working as he cleaned up his mess.

* * *

Lying on the couch later that evening, Quentin had Alice’s name pulled up on his phone. He was almost positive she wouldn’t answer his call and, instead, entered their text history. Words of anger appeared on his screen, from both sides.

_I’m not having this conversation again, Q. I’m not doing this all again._

**I know. You know how sorry I am. I was just doing what I thought was best.**

_Stop apologizing. I’m sick of the empty apologies and I just really need to go._

**Where are you going?**

_I don’t know and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you._

**Maybe you should go.**

Quentin closed the conversation and locked his phone, tossing it onto the table now back in its place. He sat up when the sound of a key being pressed into a lock could be heard from the front door. Julia entered smiling with Penny on her tail.

“Hey, Q,” she said softly, closing the door behind Penny.

“Hey, Jules,” Quentin responded.

And then a heavy silence sat between them causing Penny to exchange glances with both Quentin and Julia.

“I’m gonna go shower,” Penny muttered after a sigh, “and let y’all figure out whatever this is about.”

“Thanks, babe,” Julia said and watched him walk off towards his room.

“How was your date night?” Quentin asked pulling his feet beneath him while Julia shrugged off her jacket and tossed it over a chair before rushing over to him.

“It was a date night. Movie, dinner, very boring,” Julia said excitedly, taking her seat.

“Hey, I heard that!” Penny called from his bedroom.

Julia just rolled her eyes.

“What happened?” she asked, keeping her attention on the brunet.

“I mean, not much,” Quentin answered with a shrug, “Maybe I messed up or…” he inhaled, “… Maybe I misunderstood it?”

“Talk me through it,” Julia said.

And he did. Quentin went into detail of each item he had chosen and why. She, of course, had been involved in her contribution but the other two were otherwise unknown.

“And the peaches and plums?” Julia asked.

She knew some of what happened, of course. She knew about the side mission he and Eliot had gone on and how much that time had meant to him. She knew about Arielle and Teddy and Eliot and the perfection that came from such a simple life.

“From my time with Eliot,” is all he has to say for Julia to understand.

“Right. So, did you contact Alice?” Julia asked, crossing her legs beside him on the couch.

“No, not yet. I just want—“

“So, emergency,” it was Margo’s voice and before anyone could react to her entering the apartment, Eliot followed with his black button down open and his chest revealed-- burned.

Quentin took this time to glance at Eliot’s Sorrow wound and grimaced at the bruised skin tied together by old stitches. His fingers were twisted around his cane, following Margo towards Quentin and Julia.

With a wave of his hand, the door shut behind them.

“It’s not an emergency, Bambi,” Eliot insisted petting her hair with his free hand.

She slapped his hand away and crossed her arms, “I’m not going to risk it being an emergency, now shut up and let them look at you.”

Eliot sighed and exchanged glances with Quentin and Julia who both quickly recognized the sigil on his chest.

“Actually,” Julia stated, jumping to her feet despite Quentin’s wide eyes and violent and not at all subtle head shakes, “I think we know exactly what that is.”

“Okay, great, whose ass am I kicking?” Margo asked looking back and forth between the two, hands on her exposed hip from her cut off shirt and low pants.

“It was… Well… My fault, I guess,” Quentin finally muttered.

He half expected Margo to punch him but Julia quickly began to talk.

“However, I think this is a conversation they need to have alone,” Julia smiled back at Quentin whose eyes were still wide with anxiety.

“Coldwater, I will send your nonexistent ass straight to the underworld if you ever scare me like that again,” Margo hissed.

“Down, Bambi,” Eliot chimed with a smile, “No reason to insult something so enjoyable to look at. Besides, I recognized the sigil.”

Quentin’s neck began to heat up.

“You recognized it and let me worry?” Margo turned her anger to him and Eliot’s smile faded.

“You’ve been wound up, Darling, you needed someone to yell at,” Eliot comforted with a kiss to the forehead.

Had Eliot not already had two wounds on his torso, Quentin was sure Margo would have punched even him in that moment.

“This isn’t over, El,” Margo warned, though Quentin was sure Eliot was mostly forgiven for simply being alive.

Julia led the way out of the apartment with the promise of alcohol leaving Eliot to sigh and sit in one of the adjacent chairs.

“So you wanna tell me why you were doing a love spell?” Eliot asked with a smirk and Quentin rolled his eyes.

“It wasn’t a—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Why were you trying to find your soul mate?” Eliot asked.

Quentin ran a hand through his hair and tucked a bit out of his face. He was fidgeting under Eliot’s intense gaze.

“Alice is leaving. I told her it was a good idea and I just…” Quentin inhaled and pulled a leg up to his chest, “… I wanted to make sure I wasn’t making a mistake.”

“So you decided to cast a soulmate search?” Eliot asked.

Quentin just nodded, slow and stiff.

“And your soulmate is me?” Eliot asked.

Quentin nodded again, eyes flicking from the floor to Eliot.

“And how does that make you feel?” Eliot asked.

Eliot was far more relaxed than Quentin. His cane sat against the thigh of his delicately crossed legs—no longer a king, but still just as graceful.

“You know how that makes me feel,” Quentin says because Eliot _does_ know how Quentin feels when it comes to the subject of _them_ , “—And It’s not very surprising.”

“Oh, right, I guess this is as good time as any,” Eliot began, “I owe you an apology.”

“Apology for…?” Quentin trailed and Eliot sat forward, uncrossing his legs in the process.

“I fucked up, Q. I was afraid and I pushed you away because I knew you were right. Here’s the thing, I’ve never cared as strongly about anyone as I do you, Margo excluded. And I get it, too little, too late, but something like this?” Eliot touched the slightly burned chest.

“Proof of concept,” Quentin mumbled.

“Proof of concept,” Eliot said with a soft smile.

“I wouldn’t say it’s too late,” Quentin mumbled again.

“You were doing the spell for Alice. And that’s okay, I’m not saying it isn’t,” Eliot said, soft smile present on his lips as he stood up, “We’re alive, Q. That’s all I could ask for, really.”

As Eliot made his way toward the kitchen counter, Quentin rushed after him. The tapping of Quentin’s feet caused Eliot to turn on his heel, accepting the kiss that Quentin pulled him into. It was unexpected and sloppy and Eliot winced as he had to lean down in a way his torso was significantly not happy about but it was a kiss.

Quentin pulled back when Eliot hissed and started apologizing—

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Quentin said, hand going to hold Eliot’s side.

“No, no, you’re fine. It was worth it,” Eliot said with a breathless laugh, free hand cupping Quentin’s neck.

Eliot’s thumb traced Quentin’s chin and Quentin almost flinched. So many months of The Monster had everyone on edge around Eliot, besides Margo, but nobody blamed him and he didn’t blame anyone, either.

And Eliot saw the flash of fear in Quentin’s eyes and removed his hand, with a sad smile.

“N-No,” Quentin said quickly, grabbing his hand and pressing it against his cheek. Eliot laughed and cupped his face with a loving smile.

“Q, it’s okay,” Eliot breathed and dipped his head down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s not too late, El,” Quentin said, pulling back from the kiss to meet his eyes.

“I am not going to be your rebound from Alice,” Eliot chuckled.

“I didn’t know we were going to get you back, Eliot,” Quentin said quietly, “But you’re here and I’m here and I just… think we shouldn’t waste this opportunity… Again.”

Eliot sighed and tucked Quentin’s hair behind his ear. Quentin could see the nervousness on his smile and the fear in his eyes—the same fear that led to Eliot declining Quentin. But Eliot was different now. He wasn’t as afraid of his emotions and after almost dying to The Monster and Quentin almost dying to, well, himself, Eliot was feeling brave.

So, Eliot leaned down slowly and captured Quentin’s lips. This kiss, unlike the other, was soft and deep. Quentin parted his lips and Eliot took them again and again, his hand pulling Quentin into him by the waist. Quentin’s fingers immediately intertwined into Eliot’s curls and when Eliot’s tongue licked his lips, he gasped and his fingers tightened.

“Hey Julia, do you know where my—Oh—“ Penny had wandered out of his room, clothes in hand.

Quentin and Eliot had pulled apart to look at the traveler who had his wide eyes to the ground.

“Julia took Margo for a little girl time,” Eliot stated, hand moving to rest on Quentin’s lower back as Quentin turned to also look at Penny.

“Right,” Penny muttered, turning on his heel.

“If you’re looking for your towel, I think Julia said she washed it,” Quentin called.

Penny turned, said a quiet “thanks” and vanished down the hall.

Eliot broke out in a light chuckle and curled into a laughing hug with Quentin. Eliot’s arms wrapped around Quentin’s neck, pulling him close and holding him there, allowing Quentin to curl his arms around Eliot’s hips.

“So, what now?” Quentin asked because this is the silence that he feared the most—The time where he knew Eliot would give him a sad smile and tell him, yet again, that _they_ wouldn’t work in the real world.

“And now—“ Eliot began, pulling back from the hug to exchange looks with Quentin’s sad eyes, “—Quentin, would you be willing to give an actual relationship a shot even though I’m stubborn, dramatic, and—let’s be honest—obviously going to come with Margo who is never going to stop insulting people to protect me.”

Quentin smiled and nothing could stop the brunet from stretching up to kiss the taller man.


End file.
